


apology

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Character Study, Coda, Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Other, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: "The Decepticons offer apologies for exploiting a glitch."(An episode coda to Auto Berserk)





	apology

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Kaniel!
> 
> This was written for the 2017 Secret Solenoid exchange, and I was given Kaniel, who wanted Red Alert. So I wrote an episode coda to Auto Berserk, that focuses on Red Alert, how the different factions treat glitches, and Inferno being a sweet mech.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :>

The message comes on the official line, straight from Soundwave.

"The Decepticons offer apologies for exploiting a glitch."

It comes as text, written in glyphs set with regretful tones. It's impossible to misunderstand, except for what it is, and who it's from.

Red Alert learns about the message's trajectory later: how Blaster was on monitoring duty when it came in, how he read it, reported it, checked its origin. How Jazz got the report and the message - and that was when Red Alert was called in, to help with making sure Teletraan-1 hadn't been hacked, that their communication systems were intact.

"But what does it mean?" Blaster asks as they work, the three of them busy in the nervous system of their headquarters, checking for any signs of Soundwave's suberfuge. They're careful not to get too absorbed in checks, aware that this could be a diversion, that this could be the opening moves in another skirmish in their war.

Red Alert knows that it is. He reads the message in the middle of checking the programming of their external optics. Lines coming up clean, lines coming up as exact matches to their original coding, and then he stops for a nanosecond, then a full second before he resumes.

"They're trying to throw us off-balance," Red Alert says, all he's willing to share with Blaster present. But Jazz gives him a meaningful look, and he pretends focus on his task.

It's about Starscream, and a glitch that _doesn't_ get out of hand without encouragement, and the Negavator.

//

Jazz corners him when they're done, after Blaster's been dismissed; that young mech's a genius when he's on task, a fool away from it. It's a security risk to even have him on their roster, but Red Alert understands how understaffed they are.

It's the only reason he's been given so much authority, what with his little problem. It's the only reason _most_ of them have ranks. Not that he minds the opportunity to help, oh no.

"That was for you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Red Alert says, clipped. No, he doesn't want to talk about his glitch with Jazz. "There's no reason for the Decepticons to send such a message, except to remind everyone about what happened. But that makes no sense, because I'm stable!"

Whatever else he wants to say stops when Jazz raises a hand.

"Easy. No one's worried about you, Red."

Of course they are! He's _glitched_ and it's not battle damage, it's not repairable, it's a _base coding level glitch_ that could flare up at any time, he's fundamentally unstable, he knows all about what kind of risk he poses to the Autobots.

He doesn't say this. Jazz goes on.

"I think you're right on Soundwave wanting to stir up a little trouble. So why send it now?"

Force him out of introspection and spending too much time with his emotional circuits to test his logic chip instead with a little analysis. Classic manipulation and a test and Red Alert submits to it without any comments.

"If it's a diversion or attack it's not following any previously known patterns. There's no virus, or Decepticon movement, or even human movement, just the message and everything else as it should be. Therefore Soundwave's either expecting to stir up internal trouble by exploiting Blaster's tendency to gossip - he sent it during his shift, we might want to rearrange the roster again if he's aware of who's on shift when - or it's exactly what it appears to be."

"An apology for Starscream's actions," Jazz clarifies.

"Which makes no sense, they've never apologized for anything before. What makes this different? Exploiting an enemy's weakness is what you're supposed to do in war - wait."

It's not a fast process, looking through his files on the war. Even if they are meticulously indexed. Jazz just watches him as he checks everything he can think of without resorting to using Teletraan-1 or asking other Autobots.

"There are a total of twenty-two incidents where an Autobot's glitch became pivotal during the war," he says finally. "Twelve of them occurred on the battlefield, nine while on a mission, one in a medical bay. All of them were unplanned for by the Decepticons, and a result of other factors. The Decepticons, I think it is safe to say, do _not_ target glitches."

Jazz says nothing, does nothing. He must know this. Even though it's hardly relevant, nothing they can exploit. Autobot ranks aren't riddled with glitches the way Decepticon ranks are.

"Unless I'm lacking information, this is a unique incident," he concludes.

"An' they want us to know they won't target your glitch again," Jazz says.

"But why?" Red Alert asks, feeling his logic chip begin to heat slightly. "It makes no sense! We're enemies, we're at war - "

"True," Jazz interrupts. "I don't think we're going to figure this out with logic circuits."

Not that Red Alert's ready to stop, but - he stops, disengaging his logic chip so it can cool off. It's something Inferno would remind him to do, to let go of a topic that's winding him up.

"Do we send a response?"

"No," Jazz says. "We let it go. They're not going to follow-up, and neither are we. It's a dead end."

Because there's no tactical advantage to this information. Red Alert understands that.

Jazz leaves, letting him take the rest of the shift. It's a show of trust, a message meant for him: _you have a glitch. We're keeping you despite the risk. Don't screw up._

//

Not that he can let go of the information, or the apology. It resurfaces in his recharge cycles, forces his logic chip on so he can really think through the subject.

He brings it up to Inferno, late in the night.

"But why would they send _me_ an apology?"

Inferno's optics flick on, twin points of blue in the dark. He's on his side, favoring a healing weld on his leg: messages or no messages, the Decepticons had launched a raid on another power plant. Just routine, their usual hit and run tactics.

Inferno had been overzealous as always, so ready to solve the problem, jump into the emergency and help - but that was his coding, and it wasn't a glitch, just something useful to the Autobots because it meant he was ready for battle with the rest of them. Cliffjumper had something similar driving him, and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had their own variants on it, and Ironhide - so many of them driven to action despite all sense.

"'cause they mean it," Inferno says.

"But why?"

Inferno's hand lands on his shoulder. This is when he'll probably tell him to let it go, not to worry, that he worries too much and Red Alert knows, he knows he gets worked up too easily - 

"I'd guess it's because they know what it's like?" Inferno says. "Starscream's got to be glitched, the way he turns on Megs all the time. And they put up with it, like they expect it."

Like Inferno expects him.

It's a very strange image, to think of Megatron of all mechs behaving like Inferno does. It's wrong, completely illogical, and he sets it aside, forming a new image that integrates with known behaviors: Megatron planning around his second in command, making sure he has a safe way to glitch.

Inferno's good at that, letting him know when something's low priority when he's convinced it's going to bring havoc on them all if he can't figure it out. He's good at holding him, too, when his sensors malfunction and stream too much information into him.

Red Alert shifts and carefully lines his frame up against Inferno's front, dimming his optics.

"That was it," he says. "I don't know how to feel about _them_ understanding."

"They're still going to try to blow us up tomorrow," Inferno says with an easy laugh, draping his arm over Red Alert. "I'll thank 'em for the message before I shoot 'em."

"Aim for Soundwave," Red Alert says, his systems finally spinning down. He's comfortable and right up against the reassuring sounds of Inferno's engines. Their base is secure, with someone else on monitoring duty, and all of his problems are either resolved or put aside for tomorrow.

"I will," Inferno promises, and there's soft pressure against one of his sensory horns - a kiss.

"G'night, Red."


End file.
